<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Meeting Mr. Smith by evansrogerskitten</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22413262">Meeting Mr. Smith</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/evansrogerskitten/pseuds/evansrogerskitten'>evansrogerskitten</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, F/M, Fingering, Voyeurism, a/b/o dynamics, slick, thigh riding</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 14:55:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,568</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22413262</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/evansrogerskitten/pseuds/evansrogerskitten</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Smith gives you a ride during a conference meeting.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Dean smith x reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>112</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Meeting Mr. Smith</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Kink Bingo, Square Filled: Thigh Riding and ABO Bingo, Square filled: Slick.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>With your laptop steadied on one arm and a stack of papers clutched in the other you shut the conference room door behind you. The Vice President of Marketing was sitting at the head of the shiny cherry table. His brows were furrowed as he hunched forward and scrolled through a spreadsheet on his laptop. </p>
<p>“We waiting for anyone else?” the Alpha asked. </p>
<p>“Garth is taking a personal day and Jo said something about printing the Stantek proposals at Kinkos.” </p>
<p>“So just us then?” Dean Smith looked up and grinned at you, that sinful smile that ruined you thirty seconds into your final interview three years ago. He looked handsome in his expensive gray suit, the white shirt underneath it crisp, and the dark blue tie straight in his silver engraved tie clip. His hair was impeccably gelled just right, and the green eyes looking up at you were full of desire.</p>
<p>“Just us.” </p>
<p>The conference call picked up on the big screen at the end of the room and you sat down in a rolling chair to Dean’s left, opening your spiral bound book should you need to jot down any notes. Dean greeted your colleagues and called on the first manager to speak, who launched into technical discussion of budgets and sales numbers. Dean added a thoughtful <em>hmmm</em> here and there, answering a short “yes” or “no” when needed. When the next person at a satellite office began to speak Dean clicked on his screen. The conference room’s image became a black rectangle and a small red symbol appeared. Dean had turned off their ability to see or hear you. </p>
<p>“Omega,” Dean growled, grabbing your chair and rolling it towards him. You and Dean had sex in his office frequently, but almost always after hours and certainly not with a webcam recording. </p>
<p>“Dean, they could be recording us,” you hissed as he pulled you out of your chair. He pushed your skirt to up around your waist and pulled you into his lap, your back to his chest. “The door isn’t even locked!” </p>
<p>“Mr. Smith, do you think twenty k will be enough?” A voice came over the speakers. You could still see the faces of your colleagues even though they couldn’t see you. You felt a strange thrill in your belly that you were sitting in the boss’ lap half dressed, about to do who knows what, and they were an unknowing audience to it all. </p>
<p>Dean clicked the unmute button. “Let’s do twenty-six.” </p>
<p>You smirked as Dean pressed the mute button again and once you were sure the webcam was still black, you kissed him. Dean hummed into it, huffing a deep “Omega” when you pulled away. You braced your hands on the table and rearranged yourself to straddle one of his thighs, leaning back against his chest again. Dean continued to participate in the meeting but you kissed his cheek and then sucked on his earlobe, distracting him from a discussion about tradeshow booth upgrades. He choked out an answer about banner costs and muted your side again. </p>
<p>“Trying to distract me?” he teased, nibbling on your neck. Someday you prayed he’d leave his mark for real. He tilted your jaw towards him and kissed you. As it deepened you felt the first slide of slick in your panties. Dean growled into your mouth when he smelled it, the sweet scent like catnip to the Alpha. </p>
<p>“Maybe,” you purred, tilting your heels up and pressing your crotch against his thigh. You found friction in the fold line of his slacks, the expensive fabric soft against your thighs as you slid down a few inches and back. Your wanted to feel his fingers, but the subtle movements of riding him like this was too good to stop. </p>
<p>“Fuck baby, you gonna ride my thigh?” His eyes were wide, his top teeth sinking into his pink lower lip. “Such a good girl.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” you breathed, trying the torturous slide again. Dean’s fingers pushed under the hem of your cashmere sweater, hands kneading your breasts as he lifted his thigh every time you moved, offering you more friction. You could feel his cock hard against your ass and you wiggled against him before riding his thigh a little bit harder. </p>
<p>“Christ, Omega, look at you,” Dean growled. “Love watching you, seeing you like this. Think you can come just from riding me like this?” </p>
<p>“Alpha,” you whimpered. You panted as you held on, Dean moving with you. The drag against the fabric was perfect, the harsh rub against your clit just enough to gather that power, heavy and fluttering as it built.  “More.” </p>
<p>“Oh, want it dirty?” At your nod Dean licked his lips before his voice returned, this time deeper and sexier than before. “Your pussy feel good riding my thigh, sweetheart? Such a dirty girl, not waiting until later. Bet you’re so wet.” </p>
<p>You nodded, your eyes shut as you slid your core over his leg, coming back up faster, feeling his bowed muscle from your clit to your ass. </p>
<p>“Fuck, keep goin’,” he warned you before pressing the unmute button and speaking up again, his hands not stopping as they burrowed under your bra cups to pinch your nipples. You bit your lip, unable to hide a whine as Dean gave short answers about a new schedule for something - at that point you didn’t care. You could catch up later. </p>
<p>“I told them we wanted a harder stance on that,” Dean lectured your coworkers on the end of the line. “And furthermore,” one hand came out from under your sweater to cover your mouth as the other moved to your clit, his fingers circling torturously slow before sliding into your slick pussy as you rode him harder. You moaned against his hand as he fingered you, Dean still lecturing about the importance of the sales brand. “If you guys can’t use the design that we paid that pretentious branding firm over six thousand dollars for, then why are we here? It was your request, Adam.” </p>
<p>Multiple voices responded, offering data and information to appease the Vice President, but he was already muted. Dean moved both of his hands to your hips and he helped you, pressing your shoulder forward and moving his thigh up, his cock hard against your ass as you started to come. “Dean! I’m….” </p>
<p>“Christ sweetheart, yes. Come for me. Then you’re gonna suck me off before the end of this boring ass meeting.” Dean started to bounce you on his thigh, his fingers wet with slick as they forced an orgasm out of you. “Now, Omega. Come on my thigh like you’re gonna be coming on my dick.” </p>
<p>“Dean!” His hand covered your mouth again as you moaned loudly, riding his thigh as you rode out the end of your orgasm. You collapsed back against his chest as you tried to catch your breath.</p>
<p>“You look so amazing, coming like that. Fuck, c’mere.” The Alpha kissed you again, and when you pulled away he was grinning, a happy side of him that no one at work except you ever got to see. </p>
<p>“Mhmmm.” You leaned in and kissed him, thanking him for the midday orgasm. “That was awesome.”</p>
<p>A voice droned on the screen. “We think we’ve got a chance to take HN&amp;R out of the game if we can cinch this sale. What do you think sir?” </p>
<p>“Shit.” Dean pulled away from your long kiss, one arm still wrapped around you. He cleared his throat and pressed the unmute button again. “Sounds good. Can you take me through the proposal you sent? Before I go in there I want all the details.” </p>
<p>“Of course sir.” The faces on the screen started to drone on again as Dean pressed mute.</p>
<p>“So you gonna make me come now?” Dean asked, a hand grasping your breasts over your sweater. </p>
<p>“Of course sir,” you smirked as you stood, tugging your skirt and sweater into place. “Anything for the V.P..” </p>
<p>You gasped when you looked at Dean’s thigh. The expensive fabric was soaked with your slick, the gray now almost black on his thigh as if he’d spilled a glass of water from his upper thigh to his knee. Dean reached out and touched it, chuckling when his fingers came away wet. You moaned when he licked his fingertips. </p>
<p>“You really get off on being watched, huh? Never seen you leak that much slick before.” </p>
<p>“Well, you’re really hot,” you smirked and bent over in front of him, pulling your soaked panties down, grinning at the sound of his tortured groan. You slid the lace into the pocket on the inside of Dean’s jacket. The people on the screen were still talking. “Can you hold those for me while I work on my next assignment, boss?” </p>
<p>Dean smirked as you went to your knees in front of him. He took the soaked lace out of his jacket and held it in his hand. You blushed at the squish noise it made as he clutched it in his fist. </p>
<p>“This meeting is only supposed to go for another twenty minutes and I want you to get me real close before I fuck you on this table. Want you to ride me like you rode my thigh.”</p>
<p>You nodded dutifully as you unbuckled his belt. “I better get to work then, Mr. Smith.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! I love kudos and comments!</p>
<p>Do not copy and paste my writing anywhere without my consent. This work is property of evansrogerskitten. Characters aren’t mine, but this fanfiction is. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>